


Caveat Raptor

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [20]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are very good reasons why you do not break into Aaron Hotchner’s boyfriend’s house, even if you do have a key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caveat Raptor

Hotch had his casts taken off at one p.m. Two hours to drive home. One hour to pick up Jack from school, help him pack, take him to Aunt Jessica’s for a weekend trip to visit Haley's parents.

Half an hour in traffic from Aunt Jessica’s house to Reid’s house.

Hotch popped through Reid’s front door in plenty of time – it was only five. Spencer would be home in forty-five minutes, including the stop for the moo shoo pork that Hotch had requested.

He chilled the wine, and saw the note on the counter. 

_Thanks for the cookies – they were great! – James_

Who the hell was James?

Hotch noted there was fresh coffee set to brew, but didn’t give it a second thought. Spencer must have had a good reason. Maybe he had an article to finish. Too bad. Hotch had entirely different plans for Dr. Reid this evening, all of them horizontal.

Hotch didn’t even let Reid get in the front door entirely before he pounced, wrapped his arms around him, BOTH ARMS, for the first time in weeks! Reid flailed wildly for a second or two and dropped his messenger bag on the floor because he was totally overwhelmed by Hotch’s tongue down his throat. Hotch managed to put down the bags of take-out before he tugged Spencer by his belt loops all the way up the stairs and into the first door he could open. They were sprawled on the settee in the library.

Hotch wondered vaguely why there had been three bags in Reid’s hands instead of only two. What else had Spencer picked up? Was he smelling General Tso’s chicken along with the moo shoo? He would ask later. Right now he had more important things on his mind, such as how fast he could get Reid naked.

Hotch had Reid stripped half naked and was working on his belt and zipper when he heard the back door open. Aaron’s head popped straight up like a prairie dog from a burrow hole. Spencer was moaning softly, rubbing against Hotch’s thigh between his legs.

“Mm…oh….don’t stop,” Reid pleaded, wiggling around to get both legs up on the settee.

Hotch had his gun in hand and was down the stairs like a shot. Spencer sat up in a huff on the settee, groaning with disappointment.

Reid pulled his shirt on and made his way slowly and calmly down the stairs, through the foyer and through the dining room. He walked into the kitchen, buckling his belt and pushing both hands through his disarrayed hair.

Spencer seemed inordinately calm about the fact that Hotch had a young man pinned against the wall with his Glock shoved in his face. Both of them seemed concerned enough. The young man had his gun drawn but Hotch had the hand that held the gun pushed tight to the wall above their heads. Their heavy panting was the only sound in the room except the gasping end as the coffee pot finished brewing.

Reid poured a cup of java and added sugar. He turned around, leaned his butt against the counter, and took a sip before he coyly made introductions.

“SAIC Aaron Hotchner. Ensign Arthur James. Arthur. Aaron. Aaron. Arthur.”

“Why is this man creeping around your kitchen?!” Hotch shouted.

“I gave him permission and a key,” Spencer replied. “He works with General Scott. Would you please let go of him?”

Reid took another sip of coffee as Hotch lowered his gun and attempted to put it in his holster. Which was when he realized he wasn’t wearing his holster. Or his pants. Or his boxers. He had shed his shirt upstairs too. Oh damn.

Reid walked calmly out of the kitchen, giving Hotch a teasing smile over one shoulder before the door swung closed.

“Sorry, sir! I didn’t recognize you without your casts,” Ensign James blurted, trying to keep his eyes at shoulder height or above. “Sorry to intrude. I’ll….be….going?”

Reid returned to the kitchen and handed the ensign a box of take-out and a pair of chopsticks. Hotch realized he had been correct – the extra box was General Tso’s chicken.

“Stay warm,” Spencer said.

“Bye,” James peeped on his way out the back door, clutching dinner.

Still smiling, Reid left the kitchen again, with Hotch as close behind as a shadow.

“Why does he have a key?”

“So he doesn’t have to stand out in the cold for six hours with his legs crossed.”

“Oh, God, you’re adopting your surveillance detail like they’re stray puppies?”

“I decided if I can’t shake the detail, I’d better make friends with it.” 

“Where were we?” Hotch murmured.

“ ‘Yes, please, don’t stop’?” Reid suggested dryly, picking up the moo shoo and climbing the stairs. “Hotch, you know I love how protective you are, but you have got to stop with this ‘shoot first, ask questions after’ thing. I’m scared you’re going to put a bullet in me by accident one of these days.”

“I started out in S.W.A.T. Guns are a hard habit to break,” Hotch called up to him. Reid leaned on the banister railing on the landing of the second floor and smiled back down at Hotch, watching him climb the stairs in all his bare glory. Reid took another sip of coffee. Suddenly it made so much sense why Jack thought it was okay to streak through the house.

“Don’t worry, Hotch. With all that hair, Ensign James has really only seen you half naked,” Reid grinned.

Hotch wore a bashful smile as he finished climbing the stairs.


End file.
